The Names Our Children Will Know

Provoking A Madman - Draft One

The floor slid away and Tessa disappeared. Colin looked just as surprised as Mark, Wesson, and Jordan.

"So I missed one?" Was all Colin said finally. "A shame the castle got her. I would have liked to have done it myself." He giggled a little, the idea of killing the last survivor after so long seeming oddly funny to him.

Mark recovered next. "Like you did to the woman you loved? Like you did to Maria Rose?" He asked, naming his mother. His father's stories of how Colin had killed her were ringing in his ears now. The emphasis on her married name struck Colin like a physical blow.

"She didn't belong to your father," he hissed, a dangerous light sparking to life in his eyes. "She was mine! She should never have left me." Every pretense of nonchalance had been dropped. Colin straightened, watching as Mark stalked around the trapdoor to stand nose-to-nose with Colin–or as close as Colin could reach, since he was several inches shorter than Mark.

"Say that again," Mark spat. "Say it again, that you missed one. You'll be missing one of your eyes soon after," he threatened.

Colin backed off, the wicked glint in his eyes fading slightly. "She's as good as dead anyway," he muttered sullenly. He didn't even have time to blink before Mark had kicked his legs out from under him.

"So now what, Colin? You've made this plague that's wiping out everyone in Bolifecalis. Why do you want everyone tearing each other apart?"

"I'll only tell you if you don't kick my kneecaps out of place like that again." Colin sounded more like a whiney child than a killer now.

"Fine. Not the knees."

"Or my eyes!" Colin was even more petulant now.

"Maybe I don't need to know that badly." There's always the window, Mark thought.

"Heartless, just like your father! All right, fine. He's who I wanted to get rid of. I wanted to kill him and his precious Warriors–which I did–and his family–and I want to get rid of everyone that ever stood in my way." Colin straightened again, the manic grin back in place and an oddly greasy-looking knife in one hand. "But I think you and the werians will have to do for now."

He lunged at Mark in a blink, his knife skating off Mark's ribs and cutting him open from the bottom of his stomach to his collarbone. Colin shoved Mark's feet out from under him, much the same move that Mark had used on him a moment ago. Mark's shout of surprise as he landed on the vanishing square echoed around the room before it followed him down through the trapdoor before it was replaced by Jordan's shriek of fury as she charged at Colin.

She ran full tilt at him, jumping clean over the vanishing square and slamming him to the ground. She dug her fingernails into his neck, snarling like a savage animal. Wesson had to pull her off him and push her back, into the vanishing square. Then he punched Colin hard enough to knock him back a step–right into the window ledge. Colin stumbled, his arms windmilling, trying to regain his balance. A sudden flash of horror crossed his face, and then he lost his footing entirely when Wesson gave him a hefty shove. His scream echoed through the courtyard, ending at last with a grisly crunch at the bottom of the tower.

"Well, I suppose I should follow the others," Wesson announced to the empty room. "Before something worse comes along."

☀

Before, the slide had been smooth stone, tightly curved and hugging the wall as it spiralled down the tower. Now, it was slick with blood in places, with no way to avoid it. When the tunnel levelled out, Wesson was sure it would deposit him outside the castle. Instead, he found himself in a brightly lit, underground storeroom. Candles and torches lined the walls, looking as fresh as though they'd been burning for only a few hours.